


In Your Dreams

by dontrollthedice



Series: In Your Dreams [1]
Category: SCP Foundation, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - SCP Foundation, Canon-Typical Violence, Dreamscapes, Happy Ending, M/M, background dreamnotfound
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:54:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24658690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dontrollthedice/pseuds/dontrollthedice
Summary: When Skeppy joined the SCP Foundation as a disinformation agent, his job was clear: write articles covering up the Foundation's latest escapades, amnesticize a few people who knew too much, and maybe burn down a couple buildings while he was at it.Being chased around by a creature that somehow knew about his feelings for his best friend and actively exploited them was not part of the deal.
Relationships: Zak Ahmed/Darryl Noveschosch
Series: In Your Dreams [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1848205
Comments: 70
Kudos: 812





	In Your Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> tw: gunshots (nonfatal), curse words, chase sequence
> 
> terminology in case you need it  
> SCP: an anomalous entity or object not behaving in accordance with standard rules of reality  
> SCP Foundation: an that works to contain SCPs and keep them hidden from the world  
> Reality-bender: an object or entity that particularly screws with the rules of reality for other entities  
> Ethics Committee: a group of people within the Foundation that decide what actions are and aren't acceptable, often through the lense of containment procedures  
> MTF: acronym for mobile task force. Elite rapid-response teams comparable to special forces units from modern militaries. Often used for information-gathering or to take initial containment steps

Falling asleep at his desk was Skeppy’s favorite pastime in the SCP Foundation. Maybe not for his coworkers who depended on him getting his work done, but for him, actually getting more than three hours of sleep was a joy.

Waking up somewhere that wasn’t where he fell asleep was significantly less pleasant.

Skeppy blinked away the bleariness in his vision and rubbed his eyes. Did he sleepwalk to the cafeteria? If so, then why did nobody stop him? And why were there so many people here? It was nowhere near peak lunchtime hours.

He stood at the entranceway of the cafeteria, watching people filter in and out. Eventually, one familiar person passed by.

“A6d!” Skeppy called. “Dude, I thought you were out visiting France for an assignment. Why’re you here?”

A6d kept walking without a word.

Skeppy frowned and followed, reaching out to touch his shoulder. As soon as his hand touched his shoulder, A6d disappeared into a wisp of a shadow.

Okay. That wasn’t normal.

Last time he checked, even someone as familiar with reality-benders as A6d couldn’t just make the rules of physics his bitch. The farthest he could do was twist them a little like the rest of the Foundation staff.

Skeppy looked around. Spifey was seated at a table, but he had also faded into a shadow when Skeppy touched him. Zelk ignored his calls for a good five minutes until Skeppy’s touch reduced him into a tiny shadow on the corner of the floor. And there was no way Techno could have disappeared into the crowd so easily with his height and how much room presence he had, nor would he have missed an opportunity to make fun of Skeppy.

No one could see him, and judging by the way their bodies disappeared into shadows when he so much as poked them, this wasn’t a prank either.

Skeppy shook his head and walked out into the empty halls, thinking.

He was a disinformation agent, not a researcher. His last missions hadn’t exposed him to anything that would warp him to another dimension, or so he had been told by the initial containment team (who were all jackasses, for all he knew). The closest was that reality-bender he had to cover up the existence of a couple months back, but that didn’t involve working in close proximity to it…

“Geppy!”

Skeppy whirled around.

Bad stood at the other end of the hallway, his lips curved into a warm grin. He was dressed in a meticulously neat suit—Had he just come back from a meeting? Surely he would’ve told Skeppy if he had a meeting, but Skeppy couldn’t recall Bad mentioning one in recent memory.

Skeppy let out a sigh of relief. “Oh my god, it’s just you. Do you know what’s happening?”

Bad furrowed his eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

“Everyone’s ignoring me. And when I touch them, they just—I don’t know, they just disappear.”

“Aw, poor thing. Do you need a hug?”

Skeppy stilled.

No skepticism? No request for an explanation? That was not the response a skilled Foundation operative would give, especially from someone whose job centered around asking questions.

Would… Would he turn into a shadow if he went for the hug? Just like all his friends did?

Skeppy took a few steps back and tried not to let his discomfort show. “You seem… a little enthusiastic about a hug there. You feeling alright?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Bad said, tilting his head. Then his face scrunched as if he were about to cry, and his voice wavered as he spoke. “Do you not like them anymore?”

Bad may have been the most sensitive, kind person Skeppy had ever met, but he was also a Foundation employee for much longer than anyone else Skeppy knew and had close ties to… several important people he wouldn’t disclose the nature of. He had undoubtedly seen his fair share of atrocities. Something as simple as a rejected hug was not enough to make him cry.

This wasn't Bad. Who was this?

“Hey,” Skeppy said, taking another few steps back until his fingers wrapped around the handle of a door to a room that most certainly wasn't his office. “I’m gonna go take a break in my office. That cool?”

There was no response. The door wouldn’t budge.

What the hell? This was the break room, there was no reason it should be locked.

Skeppy cursed underneath his breath and jiggled the doorknob, to no avail.

“Language!” Bad said.

“Fuck you, you don't get to say that to me. What did you do to everyone?”

"I said, language! What do you even mean by that?"

Bad certainly would take any opportunity to scold him for swearing. He wasn't the best at picking up what seemed obvious either. But finally, Skeppy had bought enough time to narrow down the final question he needed.

Skeppy gulped and fought to keep his voice calm as he slowly reached for the pistol he knew he always kept holstered to his belt. "Bad, I’m gonna need you to answer one question for me. Answer it truthfully.”

Bad tilted his head and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “Um, okay?”

“When's my birthday?"

"January 17th, of course. Why?"

Skeppy aimed his pistol out in front of him, fired twice, and ran.

"Oh my goodness, Skeppy, that hurt!" Not-Bad whined after him. "How could you do that?"

"Bad sucks at remembering dates. You're not him!" Skeppy shouted. He whirled around to slam over a row of filing cabinets. He let out a sigh of relief upon hearing the signature echoey thud of something banging against the cabinet. So that thing wasn't impervious to physical threats after all.

Break room number two—stuck. Conference room—stuck. Janitor's closet—stuck. Since when had this site been so diligent with keeping empty rooms locked?

Skeppy's heart sank when he passed a familiar checkpoint.

Personal offices. There were only a few select people whose offices Skeppy had access to, and none of them would be helpful. Skeppy hadn't bailed on his training at any point—all of his instincts screamed to disappear, whether it be blending into the scenery or switching into one of the many different identities he maintained as part of his job. But where could he disappear to if there was no place to run? Where was he supposed to go?

"Skeppy," Not-Bad called sweetly. "Come back and give your boyfriend a kiss for that little stunt you pulled. Don't worry, I forgive you. Don't I always?"

Huh. That was funny. Skeppy only ever recalled hearing that in his fantasies, because he sure as hell didn't remember ever getting the courage to fess up to his feelings.

Now that that had happened, there were a couple things Skeppy knew for sure about whatever was chasing him: One, it desperately wanted physical contact, and it was probably not a good idea to give it that. Two, it could take the form of someone to the exact particle. Three, it somehow possessed all the knowledge Skeppy did, but it didn't seem to know how exactly to wield it. That wasn't a lot of information to go off of.

Skeppy shut the door behind him as he navigated down the hallway of offices.

Fuck. Think, think,  _ think. _ His area of expertise was in  _ people. _ No one had ever told him to expect that… thing would come after him.

A6d's office was first up. Skeppy held his keycard in front of the card reader, waiting for it to—

It opened. The door opened.

Skeppy grabbed the cabinet of hard drives inside and set it in front of the door. A6d would probably understand he needed to escape a possible SCP.

Possible SCP… that would explain a lot of things.

Fuck, Not-Bad's footsteps were getting closer. He needed to hurry.

He knew for a fact A6d's office was a dead end. Bad's office probably wouldn't be a smart place to hide, considering what was following him. Dream's office was next and…

It had an elevator. Why the hell did—

Oh, MTF. Dream needed to be able to move out at any time without the fuss of the building's layout.

Skeppy shut the door behind him and entered the elevator. He finally allowed his jaw and shoulders to relax once he made it in and tapped on button for the top floor.

A yellow sticky note was attached to the elevator door, and a pen lied on the floor.. He pulled it off the door to read.

_ Hi! If you're reading this, you've probably been being chased around by some weird person. That’s an SCP, not an actual human. We only discovered it a week ago, so it has no designation and we don’t know much about it. You probably already know this if you've made it this far, but don't let it touch you. Find the full report we've collected in George's lab on the first floor. And please write your name down on the back of this note along with who the SCP presented as and what it thinks your relationship is. It's important in case we lose you. _

_ \- The Dream Team _

Oh no. No, no, no, no. Fuck Dream, fuck George, fuck Sapnap, and fuck everyone else who thought Skeppy was going to risk an encounter with that SCP. He had come to terms with death long ago, but if he was gonna go, he was going out with a bang.

Knowing where the top floor led to would probably be useful, whether he was gonna stay alive or take this thing down with him.

But god… this was gonna be embarrassing.

Skeppy flipped the note over, only to see two other people had marked the note before him.

The first was in blue pen by George, who had written that the SCP had manifested as Dream and assumed they were husbands. The next was written in black pen—the same utensil Skeppy happened to be holding—by Tommy. And… Tommy had made it all the way to the elevator being chased by an imitation of Techno as an older brother? Maybe he had underestimated his abilities all this time.

Skeppy sighed, bent down to pick up the pen, and wrote down his experience. For the good of humanity. 

His name, Skeppy. SCP manifested as Bad. And… Not-Bad seemed to be a romantic partner. Yeah. That's what he would write.

He stuck the note back on the elevator door and dropped the pen.

The top floor was one long hallway with a door leading up to the roof. But along the hall…

A shadowy figure emerged from one of the elevators that lined the hall. 

Skeppy’s heart dropped. How did it know other offices had elevators? It must have known right off the bat, considering how quickly it had come up.

Not-Bad gave him a warm smile and looked at him with adoring eyes that made his heart wrench.

"Skeppyyy," the figure called. "Don't you remember our first date under the moonlight? No work, no distractions, just us?"

Bad would never say that to him, never remember their time together so fondly, never look at him like he was the center of his world. That reminder hurt more than anything this SCP could do to him. But he'd at least give this SCP hell before he'd let it come close to touching him.

"It's been a long day at work. Care to comfort me a little?"

Shadows. The facade was slowly wearing off little by little, patches of Not-Bad's skin turning black. And it had created those shadow manifestations of his friends at the beginning, or at least had the knowledge that they weren't real. The fluorescent lights inside the facility hadn't been enough to break its cover but…

"Aw, you look upset. Come here, you muffinhead."

The roof. Sun. Was the door locked or unlocked?

The leisurely amble Not-Bad had taken had quickened to superhuman speeds, and its stare was locked onto Skeppy.

Oh, fuck.

No time for the elevator. He had to take the gamble.

Skeppy ran, sped, rushed to the door leading up to the rooftop with all the energy he had left.

Don't look back, don't look back, don't look back—

Not-Bad had its arms outstretched, its fingertips just there, almost reaching—

Skeppy grabbed the handle and threw it open.

Sunlight greeted him.

* * *

Skeppy woke up to a desk that was decidedly his, a half-empty lunchbox that was decidedly his, and a helmet on his head that was decidedly not his.

When the shroud of bleariness cleared from Skeppy’s vision, the figure of George in front of him waving like an idiot focused into view.

“George? What the hell?” Skeppy set his hands on the helmet to remove it, only to be stopped by George.

“Nope, don’t do that,” George said. He had a tablet and manilla folder on his lap full of papers. “I’ll remove it. I don’t trust you to not mess something up. For now, just leave it on.”

"George, I hate you," Skeppy groaned, holding his head.

"Yeah, I got that from Tommy, too." George took a seat across from him. "You should also probably know you're an idiot. We literally told you to go to my lab, but you went the complete opposite direction and cornered yourself."

"Dude, I wasn't gonna risk a confrontation with that thing."

"You went the only route that would have guaranteed a confrontation. Were you thinking sunlight would deactivate its powers?"

Skeppy stayed silent.

George rolled his eyes. "Logical conclusion, but no. The only escape from it that we've found is waking up.”

“Then why didn’t you wake me up? And if you knew about it a week ago, why didn’t you warn everyone so we could have a heads up?”

“You think I would’ve have if I could? The best I could do was hook this up to your head and at least see the SCP in action.”

Oh. So it  _ was _ an SCP.

“And we wanted to rule out the possibility it was an infohazard. It’d be pretty bad if we just released one of those upon the entire facility,” George continued.

Well, that made sense. Skeppy sighed and leaned back in his chair.

Wait a second.

“Wait, you saw everything then?” Skeppy asked, his voice and panic rising.

George groaned and glared at him. “First of all, keep it down, your voice is so loud. And I saw everything after your interrogation with the SCP. Good thinking, by the way. We’ve figured out that it takes knowledge from your head and uses it to imitate the person you trust the most. At least, that’s how we think it chooses its form.”

Skeppy didn’t want to think of the implications of that or what George now knew about him.

George met his silence when an eye roll. “Oh, get over it. It’s not like I saw something I didn’t already know anyway.” He cleared his throat and read through the documents in his lap. “We don’t think it’s all that good at it, though. It takes a good amount of time for it to absorb enough knowledge to perfectly mimic—”

“Ugh, you’re making my brain hurt,” Skeppy said, his palm slapped against his forehead. “Just… tell me about what I just went through.”

“I would’ve been happy to do that from the start, but if you keep interrupting me—”

“George, shut up and talk.”

George chuckled at the contradiction but continued. “I think I was the first to encounter it, or at least the first to survive an encounter with it. It seems to attack only when you dream and transfers from victim to victim by physical contact in real life. I only got here as quick as I did since Tommy told us he bumped into you yesterday.” He paused. “Have you seriously not slept since yesterday before that? Skeppy, you need to reconsider your priorities.”

“Whatever. And I didn’t touch anyone after Tommy bumped into me, if that’s what you were going to ask.”

“Thank you, I was going to ask that.” He shuffled his papers. “From what we’ve observed so far, the SCP has no other goal than coming into physical contact with the victim it’s targeting. We’re not sure what happens when it accomplishes that goal, but you can understand why we’re not keen on letting that happen. Dream just filed a request for use of animal testing today. Would you like to hear the results of it when it comes out?”

Skeppy snickered, picturing Bad’s face when he would inevitably encounter that request in his paperwork. “No way that’s getting past Bad. Animals are his soft spot.”

“But in the case that it does, would you like to?”

“Yeah, sure.” Skeppy frowned and thought. His brain was foggy, but the memories were still clear. “It’s, like… hunting us down, right? That’s the kind of vibe I got from it the entire time.”

“Ugh, I’m so done with predator SCPs. But yes, that would make sense. Anyway, I recorded what I could. Can you look over this document to make sure it aligns with what you experienced?” He passed a tablet across Skeppy’s desk.

Skeppy sighed and picked up the tablet.

**_Document XXXX-A_ **

**_Subject:_ ** _ MTF Tau-3 "Dream Team" member George  
_ **_Entity Appearance:_ ** _ MTF Tau-3 "Dream Team" commander Dream  
_ **_Perceived relationship:_ ** _ Spouses [I CANT BELIEVE AN SCP SNITCHED ON ME (- G)]  
_ _ [HA YOU LOSER (- S)]  
_ _ [ lol look at this geek (- D)]  
_ **_Actual relationship:_ ** _ Romantic partners  
_ **_Incident log:_ ** _ [what can I say? Dream chased me around the facility talking about the day we got married and his ring. I mean, the scp didn't actually have a ring, but it wouldn't shut up about it (- G)]  
_ _ [Sounds like a pretty normal interaction actually (- S)]  
_ _ [Shut the hell up sapnap (- G)] _

**_Document XXXX-B_ **

**_Subject:_ ** _ Junior Researcher Tommy  
_ **_Entity Appearance:_ ** _ MTF Alpha-2 "Antarctic Empire" commander Techno  
_ **_Perceived relationship:_ ** _ Brothers  
_ **_Actual relationship:_ ** _ Friends  
_ **_Incident log:_ ** _ [what did tommy say again? I didn't get the write-up from him yet (- S)]  
_ _ [Something about techno talking a lot about nerf gun fights and family barbecues (- D)]  
_ _ [Sounds about right (- S)] _

**_Document XXXX-C  
  
_ ** ******_Subject:_ ** _ Disinformation Agent Skeppy  
_ **_Entity Appearance:_ ** _ Ethics Committee member Bad  
_ _ [were any of us really surprised? (- D)]  
_ **_Perceived relationship:_ ** _ Romantic partners  
_ **_Actual relationship:_ ** _ Friends  
_ **_Incident log:_ ** _ [something something bringing up memories of their first date and asking for a kiss and hugs. You know, their normal interactions (- G)] _

Wow. If Skeppy were to ever make a hitlist, Dream would be the first on it, then George.

“You guys sure are professional when drafting these things,” Skeppy said, passing back the tablet.

George took it back with a shrug. “I mean, one of the benefits of not being in research anymore is not having to write absurdly long documentation. That’s gonna be your job.”

“What? You think I have any sort of writing skills?”

“Email Dream with what you want written in the incident log,” George said, standing up. “Don’t worry if it’s not up to standard, he’s gonna be editing it to be more clinical. We just figured we should give you an opportunity to choose what specifically goes on the database.” He paused and offered him a teasing smile. “The notes we wrote down are non-negotiable, though. I’ll do you a favor and word ‘kiss and hugs’ as ‘physical affection.’”

“Wow, thanks.”

“You’re welcome. I think we’re done here. Now, stay still.” George set his hands on the helmet and lifted it off Skeppy’s head. He snickered. “Your hair got wrecked, oh my god.”

Skeppy ran a hand through his hair as George began packing up whatever device he had strapped to his head into a box. “I get why Sapnap hates you now. But you’re not gonna, like, tell Bad about anything you saw, right?”

“Me? God no. That’d be signing up for one awkward conversation.”

“... You’re implying that someone else will.”

By that point, George had finished boxing up the machine and had put his tablet and papers on top of the box. “Yes, you.”

Skeppy furrowed his eyebrows. This was not a conversation he expected to be having with a coworker, much less George of all people. “What do you mean by that?”

“I’m just saying,” George said, “if I have to see you and Bad dancing around each other for another day, I’m filing a complaint.”

Skeppy had nothing to say to that.

“Anyway, I’m headed out for an assignment soon,” George said, the box huddled under his arm. He held a hand out. “Thank you for your cooperation. And sorry about invading your privacy a little.”

Was… Was this another shadow? There was only one question that could determine that.

Skeppy looked him up and down. "What's Dream's favorite color?"

"Green." 

Good. Skeppy didn’t know that.

Skeppy took the hand, and George gave him a knowing smile. And that’s when Skeppy realized maybe he should think before he acted sometimes.

“Wait, dude,” Skeppy said, standing up. His stomach dropped. “The SCP’s on you now.”

“I’m well-aware. How else do you think we’re gonna study this thing?”

God, that was so stupid. They didn’t even know what happened to people who touched the SCP. Was George supposed to just carry it around with him on his missions on what couldn’t be restful nights of sleep?

But… if there was one defining characteristic of anyone on the Dream Team, it was certainly their stubbornness. There was no use in arguing.

“George, you’re dumb,” Skeppy said, shaking his head and taking a seat back down. “Brave, but dumb.”

George only laughed and opened the door with his hand before switching to prop it open with his foot. “That’s why I work here.”

Then he left, and the door slammed shut behind him, leaving Skeppy to wonder what had just happened.

* * *

A day full of paperwork was both boring and dangerous.

Had he fallen asleep again? He did feel awfully drowsy after waking up. Did the SCP successfully transfer to George? Holy shit, was George gonna be okay?

Then his door swung open and—

"Geppy!"

No, no, no, no, not again—

Pistol. His pistol. He pointed it at Bad, to which he only looked mildly confused. Or Not-Bad. Which one?

“Woah,” Bad said, his gaze flickering between Skeppy and his pistol. “I was off-site for thirty minutes, what happened?”

"When's my birthday?" Skeppy asked.

Bad’s face visibly brightened. "Oh, I know this one!" He fumbled with the apple juice boxes in his hands. He looked more devastated at not remembering his friend's birthday than he did having that same friend point a gun at him. "Um, uh… January? Yeah, January!"

"What day?"

"... Fifteenth? No, sixteenth. No, seventeenth. I remembered!"

Skeppy set his gun down and let out a sigh of relief. "Okay, you're the real Bad. Sorry for pointing a gun at you there."

"It's understandable. You just kinda get used to it after a while."

Skeppy had no idea what Bad meant by that or what that implied about his past, but there was no more room in his brain to consider that. He decided to let it be for now.

Bad offered him a smile and juice box. "Apple juice? I grabbed the last ones from the vending machine for us."

"I knew the vending machine had apple juice bottles, but not cartons."

"I… may or may not have lied a little and just bought them."

Skeppy had to smile at that. He shook his head and accepted the juicebox. He set it on his desk. "Yeah. You're Bad all right."

"Why would I not be?" Bad gasped, and his eyes twinkled. "Wait, don't tell me. You saw someone wearing the same clothes I do and did that awkward thing where you wave at a complete stranger and only notice it at the last second."

You know what? He'd take that.

"Yeah, that's what happened," Skeppy said. "I just… kinda want a hug."

Bad's grin softened into an adoring smile that sent arrows through his heart, and he set his juicebox down. "Aw, you could've just said so from the beginning. Come here, you muffinhead."

This time, Skeppy didn't hesitate to throw himself into Bad's arms and bury his face into his shoulder. The warmth was almost enough for him to drift to sleep, if he wasn't hyperaware of his rushing heartbeat.

This was it. This was where he belonged.

"Can we just stay like this?" Skeppy asked, his voice muffled.

Bad's answer was a tighter hug and light laugh. "Long day?"

Skeppy sighed and shut his eyes, allowing himself to sink into the warmth. "Long day."

**Author's Note:**

> this was kinda to gauge interest in this kind of au. If you have feedback or questions, id love to hear it


End file.
